


What Can I Do for You?

by xcourtney_chaoticx



Category: Wild Wild West (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Artemus Gordon is a firm but loving top, Blow Jobs, First Kiss, First Time, James West is a mouthy bottom, M/M, kind of starts as dubcon but it doesn't end that way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2018-04-09
Packaged: 2019-04-20 12:58:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14261484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xcourtney_chaoticx/pseuds/xcourtney_chaoticx
Summary: It's very clear to Artemus that Jim wants him as much as he wants Jim, but neither of them is prepared to make a move that may jeopardize their friendship and partnership. So Artemus Gordon, diviner of secrets and master of disguises, comes up with a plan that he thinks they both may benefit from.





	What Can I Do for You?

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first smut I've written for this fandom, so I'll just leave this here and hope everyone enjoys it :)

Jim just left for the city, and so that means I need to hurry if I’m going to catch him in time and put my plan into action. I suppose it isn’t so much a plan as a scientific study I intend to undergo.

For weeks now, I’ve taken careful notice of Jim and the way he behaves… specifically, the way he behaves around me. I’m sure he thinks I haven’t noticed his heated glances and lingering touches and the way he would make excuses to simply spend time with me. I swear, at one point I think he got into a fight solely so I would patch him up! He’s a truly ridiculous man, Jim West, but God help me, I love him.

That’s really the crux of my little experiment. I know I love Jim, and I know I have for quite some time now. Jim is quite aware of my basic affections, knows I care for him a great deal. He is not so aware of exactly how I care for him. I can tell Jim cares for me in exactly the same way. I can see that he wants me in the same carnal way that I want him. He’s afraid, though, afraid of making a move to express his desires. My little experiment should make it easier for him.

I simply need to make myself semi-recognizable. Jim needs to think I’m someone who looks like me, no easy task with a man who knows all my disguises and can always see through them. This will certainly be the most difficult act I’ve ever put on, but I’m determined to make it work. I think of all the male whores I’ve known in my time, remembering how they looked and dressed and dandied themselves up to attract their clients.

Looking at myself in the glass, I’ve done a fine job: slicked hair, brows groomed, clean-shaven jaw, a bit of rouge on the cheeks with a hint of kohl around the eyes, the merest touch of color on the lips. I pick a fine suit of clothes in a rich burgundy I know Jim likes and complements that teal-colored suit he wears so well. It’s tighter than I would normally prefer, but one must show off one’s wares when trying to court someone. I do look very fine. I only need Jim to think so, too.

I linger in the shadows. The only man I wish to attract tonight is Jim, and Denver is just big enough a city that we’ll have a place that doesn’t ask questions when we need privacy. I shiver with anticipation. Thankfully, Jim is easy to find. I call out to him, and when he turns to look, I give him my best bedroom eyes and come hither glance. He comes hither.

“What can I do for you?” he asks in the same voice I’ve heard him use a hundred times on a hundred women.

“The question,” I reply in a husky voice, “is what can I do for you, sir?”

His blue eyes rake over me, drinking me in, and I’m doing the same to him. God, Jim is beautiful. He’s muscular and powerful, with broad shoulders and thick thighs, energy coiled up like a spring in his short frame. James West is a work of art. He licks his lips. I’ve almost got him. I just have to get him into the room I already set up and we’ll be golden.

“Don’t suppose you’re going to tell me what you can do for me… good sir,” he says, a smirk on his lips and a glint in his lovely eyes.

“Oh, I would love to tell you what I can do for you, but I don’t think out here on the street is the place to do it.”

“Then where is the place to do it?”

I hand him a slip of paper with an address and room number, telling him, “Meet me here in fifteen minutes. No one will ask any questions. Just be there in fifteen minutes.”

With a wink, I slip off into the darkness and go to my post. It’s the best whorehouse in Denver, where a man can fill all his desires in comfort and anonymity. I’m a good friend of the madam who operates it, having once acted in the same troupe with her for a short time. It’s thanks to her that I can keep up my ruse since she so graciously allowed me to borrow a fine room in her establishment for as long as needed.

I prepare the room, keeping the lamp low to keep throwing Jim off my scent. After all, Jim knows me better than anyone on Earth, and when I take my clothes off, he’ll recognize the scars. I tried to cover them with make-up the best I could but you never know. It could rub off.

Jim is punctual as ever, arriving precisely on time, and I’m more than pleased to see his trousers are already tented. He closes the door behind him and locks it. Arousal surges through my body, my cock stiffening. Jim steps close, amusement in his blue eyes, and asks, “Now then… I believe you promised to tell me something very important.”

“I did, didn’t I? Can’t I know your name?”

He pauses a moment, looks me over again, tells me, “Call me James. What can I call you?”

“You can call me anything you like, James.”

This is the critical part. What name will he choose for me? The fact that he wants me to call him James is startling enough. I usually reserve his Christian name for either pure exasperation, deadly danger, or dearest affection. He likes it enough that he wants me to use it in this lusty context. That is very important information indeed. But who does he want me to be?

“I think I’d like to call you… Artie.”

I’m almost dizzy from lust and joy. Oh yes, he wants me. He might even recognize me under all this pretense, probably does. I’m still playing the part, though. I won’t give it up.

“I like that name… I’ll enjoy answering to it, James. Will you enjoy calling me that name?”

“Yes, Artie, I think I’ll enjoy it very much.”

“Good. I intend to make you call that name several times over the course of the evening,” I tell him quietly, stepping in close, “and I hope I’ll be given good cause to call yours, too.”

I see him fail to suppress a shiver and he licks his lips. Arousal pulses through my body, thrums at the base of my skull. There are other people fucking all over the building, but I can’t hear or think of them any more. Jim and I are the only two people who matter in the entire world at the moment. I continue, “So just tell me what it is I can do for you, James. Tell me how I can make your dreams come true, and I’ll make them come true. What is your deepest fantasy, James? Tell me… and I’ll make it a reality for you.”

He shivers again. It’s a beautiful sight. I wait with bated breath, desperate to hear what he has to say. What lusty dreams live within Jim’s head? What sorts of fantasies has he concocted late at night while he lies in bed? How has he imagined fucking me? I like to imagine it would be rough but not too much so, just rough enough for me to remember the next day just how he fucked me. I can’t wait.

Jim’s cheeks flush pink, like he’s embarrassed, and in a low voice he tell me, “I-… I know a man… a man I’m closer to than anyone else… and there’s something I- I’ve kind of always wanted him to do.”

“Tell me, James. What do you want him to do?”

I would do anything for him, anything at all, submit to him in every way if only to have him.

“Artie… I’ve always wanted him to-… to fuck me,” he says, and that certainly throws me for a loop, “I don’t even care how, really. He can hold me down and fuck me hard and fast, or he can be gentle and sweet. I don’t care how he does it as long as he fucks me. I’d like to make that fantasy come true.”

I smile, tell him, “James, your wish is my command,” and pull him in for a kiss. He kisses just as well as I expect. His lips are plush and warm, his mouth sweet, his tongue hot and moving so expertly. Jim is anything but submissive right now, instead is kissing me into submission. A rough hand grips at the back of my neck. My fingers thread through his brown hair. The way he uses his tongue is well over the border between indecent and pornographic, has my cock throbbing in my trousers, has me aching for all of him. But he said his wish was for me to fuck him, and I’ll be damned if I’ll let him have total control here.

Physically, I’m bigger than him. I’ve got about three inches on his him and probably a few pounds. He’s certainly stronger than I am, but I have to see if he’s serious. I grip his hair tightly in my fingers, half-pulling, and I hear him suck in a harsh breath that sounds a lot like, “Jesus, Artie,” sending heat flooding into my groin. I pull my lips away from his and whisper, “James, do you trust me? Will you let me make your fantasy real?”

“Ye- Yes, Artie. Please…”

That’s new. I have never heard Jim beg before. I suppose in sexual matters he’s never had to. The thought of having him completely at my mercy is intoxicating. I will not abuse my power, though. I will not abuse Jim.

“Good. Then you will do as I say. Let’s start with these clothes, shall we, James?” I tell him, all but purring his name, “You’re quite overdressed for the occasion.”

I flick my tongue against his lip, a tease, a taste of his reward. Jim strips off his clothing with little finesse, eager to be free of its confines. We’ve seen each other naked many a time, just a result of living together in close quarters for so long, but I have never seen him naked like this.

His body is flushed with lust, from his chest up his neck and into his face. His muscles are taut with excitement, making them stand out in his frame. I can count each abdominal. I can see the differentiation in all the muscles of his thighs. His torso is graced with dark hair that narrows down to his abdomen, something I have always found so attractive about him. Further down, the same dark hair sits between his thighs, his cock standing out from it, hard and flushed and shining. He’s beautiful.

“You are very beautiful, James,” I say, my voice low and tight with arousal, “Do you know that? Do you know how very beautiful you are?”

“Tell me, Artie.”

I let my hands float up to touch his body, to drag over his chest and shoulders and belly.

“You’re artwork, James. Sculptors would beg for the chance to try and recreate your likeness in marble and clay. Artists would die for the opportunity to paint your body on their canvas and to sketch your form on paper. Musicians would kill for the mere prospect of composing songs to your beauty.”

All the while, my hands roam his body, drafting full sonnets to his powerful loveliness with my fingertips. His eyelids flutter, and he murmurs, “You sound like my friend.”

“Your friend has good taste,” I smile, “Of course, I knew that he did, if he’s your friend.”

I pull him closer, draw his tongue into my mouth, kiss him soundly. He lets me. Jim is pliant under my hands. I have never known Jim to be pliant and yielding and submissive, yet here he is, melting under my touch and kiss. It’s amazing. His fingers curl around the back of my neck again, fitting there perfectly as if my neck were molded for them. Perhaps it was.

“Artie… Artie, please take off your clothes, too.”

“Is that a part of your fantasy?”

“One of them.”

He kisses along my jaw, bringing his lips close to my ear, and whispers, “I know it’s you, Artie.”

“And how do you feel about that?” I ask, only slightly disappointed my ruse hadn’t lasted.

“Like I want you to take your clothes off and fuck me.”

A wave of lust washes over me so powerfully it makes me dizzy, and I hurry to do as he asks. As soon as I’m naked, he pulls me flush against his body, our cocks brushing together and making us both moan. Oh, yes… this is wonderful.

“I’m taking you to bed, James.”

“I was wondering when you finally would.”

His smile is almost predatory. I lead him to the handsomely made bed and gently push him to sit, saying, “I just have one question, Jim. How’d you know it was me?”

“How could I not know it was you, Artie? I know you better than anyone, and I’ve probably seen you in a hundred disguises. I knew it was you right from the start,” he replies, “Why’d you pretend to be someone else?”

“I wasn’t sure if you’d want to take the risk of being with me since we’re partners and friends… wasn’t sure you’d want to risk our friendship. I figured that by pretending to be someone who looked like me, that would make it easier… and if that person happened to be a whore, well, perhaps that would be easier still,” I answer quietly, sitting beside him on the bed.

His fingers dance over my thigh, tracing illegible patterns on my flesh. He murmurs, “I suppose it did make it easier. You’re not always easy to read, y’know? I knew I wanted you, but I wasn’t sure if you wanted me back. Never went so far as to find a whore that looked like you but-… but when you were there pretending to be one… I couldn’t say no, not when I’ve wanted you for so long.”

“Then let’s not waste any more time, shall we, James, my boy? Come here…”

Our lips meet in the gentlest kiss I’m sure either one of us has ever had. I put my hands on his chest, fingers stroking over the hair there and ghosting over his nipples. He sucks in a sharp breath through his nose. It’s a lovely sound. My lips trail away from his lips along his wonderful jawline, letting my teeth scrape over his stubble. His hands clutch at my shoulders. I kiss my way along his throat, urging his chin upward so I can reach the sensitive skin. I want him. I want to mark him. I want everyone to know he’s mine as soon as they look at his skin. Christ, I want him so bad.

“Lie back, Jim,” I tell him breathlessly, “I’m going to take care of you.”

“You always do.”

The sincerity in his voice catches me off-guard, but not for long. I suppose that is what I do most in the Secret Service: take care of Jim. I take care of him when he’s hurt or sick or in danger. I devote a good portion of my life to taking care of Jim. It only makes sense that now I should take care of him in this way, too.

I lean over him, careful to not let our bodies touch even though I can tell he’s desperate for it, and I kiss my way down his chest. His fingers grip my hips, try to pull them down, but even his strength is no match for my determination. I’m sure to pay full attention to both his nipples, licking and sucking at each pink nub until it’s perfectly peaked and Jim is writhing beneath me. He doesn’t even know what pleasure is yet.

I could take my time with him, could make him cum again and again and again here in this luxurious room, but we’ve already waited so long for this. I just skip right to the good part and wrap my lips around his cock. He cries out, his hips jerking up, hands tightly gripping the sheets. The weight and feel and taste of him are perfect on my tongue. I let him rock up into my mouth, cock sliding easily between my lips. I’ve done this before, and I know how to handle a man like Jim West. I know exactly how to bring a man to the brink and not let him cum.

Jim is gasping in his lust. His hips rock of their own accord, desperate for my mouth, and I release his hips to allow him free rein. I know he won’t hurt me. Even as he thrusts sharply into my mouth, I know for certain that he would never hurt me. After a few minutes of treating him, I pull my mouth off his cock with a purposefully wet and sinful pop, ignoring his whine of protest.

“Artie… Jesus, Artie, that was-… Jesus…”

“I’m glad you feel that way, James. I intend for things to only get better,” I tell him, then ask, “Tell me, have you ever had anything in that pert little ass of yours?”

His cheeks flush red as he replies, “Only- Only fingers. There was a whore once who, uh, who pleasured me like you just did, only she put her fingers in me, and it felt pretty good. So, sometimes when I touched myself… I would think about- about you and I would use my fingers, too. It always felt nice, and I could pretend you were fucking me.”

My boy, my dear boy… He looks almost shy when he makes his admission. I have never known him to be shy, and so this is an extra lovely treat. We kiss again. Kissing him is so wonderful. I would like to kiss him forever, ceaselessly, endlessly. Still, we have other matters to attend to.

I touch two of my fingers to his lips, entreating them to part, which they eagerly do. His mouth is almost burning hot, his tongue like fire as it licks over my fingers, making them slick, and I swallow a moan. He looks obscenely beautiful with his lips wrapped around my fingers, cheeks occasionally hollowing as he sucks.

Once they’re good and slick, I slowly pull my fingers from between his lips. My other hand slips down to grip the back of his thigh and push his leg up toward his chest, allowing myself access to his hole. Two fingers slips in easily, and I can’t stop myself from making the smart remark, “Just how often do you think about me fucking you when you touch yourself, James?”

“S’pose- oh! S’pose it’s fairly often, Artie,” he says, fingers twisted in the sheets.

He’s covered in a sheen of sweat, his chest heaving, his breath coming in short bursts. I have done this to him. Only me. Again, I need to bring him to the brink and keep him waiting. I pump my fingers in and out of him expertly, keeping him writhing and moaning beneath me. It’s exciting to have such power over him, to have him at my mercy. I quickly add a third finger and give a few strokes over that sensitive nub inside him, the one that sends sparks of ecstasy up men’s spines. Jim is no exception. His back arches off the bed, muscles straining, breath hitching.

“Fuck, Artie, yes!” he cries, “Yes, right there! More, Artie! Please- Please, I need more!”

“What do you need, James? Tell me what you need.”

I’m not the picture of composure right now, either. I can feel my pulse racing and sweat beading on my skin and my chest heaving. There’s nothing I want more right now than to take Jim and fuck him hard, but I need to wait. I can’t just fuck him senseless. I need him to enjoy his first time.

“I-… Please, Artie, I need you to fuck me… please.”

This time, I can’t hold back my groan. I lean forward, my fingers still inside him, and whisper, “Of course, my darling boy… as if I would ever deny you anything.”

A brush of the lips is all I give him, a tease, and I tell him to wait there. Spit is well and good for fingers, but a cock needs more lubrication. I grab a salve I put together just for the occasion and return to the bed.

“Here, James, I need you to get me ready.”

He sits up quickly, taking the salve from me and slicking up my cock. A low moan leaves my throat at his touch, a touch I’ve wanted for so long. His strokes are strong and sure, and soon his lips are on my skin, kissing and licking over my chest. I weave my fingers into his thick hair.

“James… James, you beautiful, incredible man… how I love you…” I murmur.

My hand slips around to cup his face, thumb stroking over his cheek, and he looks up at me with those bluest-of-blue eyes and the most earnest expression I have ever seen him wear.

“I love you too, Artemus,” he tells me seriously, “I mean that. I love you more than anything on this earth.”

“I know you do, darling. I know… Here, lie back down…”

I gently push him down and kiss him thoroughly this time, no teasing. My chest feels like it may burst from happiness.

“Please, James, you must tell me if I’m hurting you. I don’t want to hurt you. I want you to enjoy this.”

“I will.”

My dear, darling boy… Jim raises one of his legs to rest it on my shoulder, and I still hold the back of his other thigh. With my free hand, I guide my cock to his hole, slowly and gently pushing in. His mouth moves wordlessly, his eyes locked on mine, his hands fisted tightly in the sheets. Once I’m buried to the hilt, I lean closer to his face, asking, “Are you alright, James? I’m not hurting you?”

“Yes, I’m fine, Artie. It- This feels amazing… feels wonderful,” he replies breathlessly.

Assured that he’s telling me the truth, I roll my hips, pulling out almost all the way and pushing back in. This pulls a whining moan from Jim’s throat, a beautiful sound I could never tire of as long as I live. I repeat my action a few more times, enjoying that sweet noise, before I change my tactic slightly. I intersperse my slow rocking with a sharp thrust now and again. They make Jim gasp with pleasure, and it isn’t long before words begin pouring from his beautiful lips again.

“Yes, fuck me, Artie… Yes, right there,” he pants, his body rocking back against mine, “Fuck-! Artie! Yes, fuck me harder, Artie! Gimme- Fuck me harder! Please!”

I have never denied Jim anything, and I don’t deny him this. I pick up speed. His hands are all over my back, blunt nails scratching, his fingertips digging into my muscles. It’s incredible. Vulgar endearments and entreaties continue to drop from his lips as I fuck into him, underscored with breathy pants and skin slapping against skin and the bed creaking. It’s lovelier than any symphony I’ve ever heard.

“Just like that, Artie, yes! Fuck-! Yeah, I love this, Artie… Love how you fuck me-!”

His voice trails up into a whine after a particularly well-placed thrust, and his words aren’t quite as coherent after that. All his words now are monosyllabic answers when I ask things like, “You like that? My cock in your ass?” and “You like being fucked rough like this?”

We’re in perfect sync, moving in perfect harmony, Jim pushing against me when I push against him. I keep hitting that lovely spot inside him, causing to cry out wordlessly when I do. We’re both so close to our climax. Pleasure buzzes in my skull, blocking out everything but Jim. It sparks up my spine and sits hot in my belly.

“Jim,” I gasp, “Jim, I’m close.”

“Me too. Cum in me, Artie. I want you to.”

Lust jolts up my spine and into my groin. I give a few more rough thrusts before spilling into Jim’s hole, groaning and shuddering, my movements jerky. Slick with cum now, my cock slides easily in Jim’s hole as I lazily roll my hips a few more times. Jim cums then, cums hard, with a sobbing sort of moan, his body clenching around my cock. It almost makes me hard again. He looks amazing, his mouth a perfect ‘O’ and his fingers digging so hard into my back I’m convinced I’ll have bruises there.

After that, he goes limp, thoroughly fucked out, and I collapse on top of him. Sweat and cum are sticky between our bodies, but I’m not bothered. I press kisses all over his face and hear him laugh quietly at my attentions. I pepper in little endearments here and there, things like “I love you,” and “You’re so beautiful,” and “My darling boy.”

I can hear the smile in his voice when he laughs out, “Yes, Artie, I love you too.”

His fingers weave into my hair, rubbing gently at my scalp, and he kisses back after a bit. I still haven’t pulled out of him yet. Everything just feels so right. I never want this moment to end, and for now, it doesn’t have to. My forehead rests on Jim’s, our faces so close that we breathe each other’s air, an act which somehow feels more intimate than what we just did. It feels just right and perfect and wonderful.

“Jim… my dear James,” I murmur, “I love you so…”

“I know you do, Artie,” he smiles, “and I love you.”

We settle against each other for the time being, clinging together until some great need will drive us apart, although I can’t think of anything doing that right now.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this, drop a comment and let me know! There can always be more where this came from!


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